


The Flavour of You Lips

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Arguments, Blow Jobs, Denial, Dry Humping, M/M, Quidditch, Rimming, Secret Relationship, Separation, Teabagging, and i love f/f, and kalicia is pure, angsty angst, but actually, humping, i added kalicia bc i don't think ive added side f/f, in which a lesbian tries to write m/m sex, secret hooking up, sigh here's the sex stuff though, sm, thats in this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-19
Updated: 2017-02-19
Packaged: 2018-09-25 14:19:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9824270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: They're just hooking up. No kissing. No feelings. That's all it was.





	

Oliver still wasn’t completely sure how he and Flint started their… arrangement or why they continued it. But at this point, they were too far in to stop it. So they continued it even though they both knew they shouldn’t. They were rivals yet they were doing something no rival should do. 

The Quidditich pitch was eerily cold. There were still a few hours until curfew but he still felt the need to be quiet, in case he got caught. He went straight for the Qudditch change rooms, muttering the lighting charm as he entered. 

“Who’s there?” came a gruff voice.

“Relax,” Oliver replied. “Just me.”

Marcus Flint’s face came into light, his own wand casting the lighting charm. His face had a stony expression, a flat line hiding his crooked teeth, his grey eyes a calm storm. 

“’Bout time,” he grunted.

“I was trying to avoid, Peeves. He catches us and the entire school will know.”

Flint shrugged and stepped toward him, grabbing his wrists to pin him to the wall. His hips snapped against his, and Oliver let out a small moan. 

“Kept me waiting though,” Flint mumbled.

Oliver’s body shook in pure pleasure as Flint’s thigh pressed against his cock. “Shouldn’t’ve,” he mumbled. “Sorry.”

“Hm,” Flint said, pressing his thigh harder against him. He felt himself getting hard against it, sweat forming on his forehead. “Want to make it up to me?”

Oliver nodded and his hands went for Flint’s cock. He was already mostly hard and he couldn’t help but moan at that. He went on his knees and he heard Flint’s groan as he pulled down his pants. He licked his lips when he saw his large cock. 

He wrapped his hand around him and stoked him. Flint let out a small moan and he pushed the back of his head. “Not gonna suck itself, Wood.”

Oliver didn’t let himself smile at that, he didn’t want to give Flint the satisfaction of him enjoying the way he spoke to him. 

He wrapped his lips around him, teasing the head with his tongue. He heard Flint softly pant and bucked his hips forward, Oliver gagging a little. He wrapped his hand around the base for better control, pumping it in his mouth. 

“Fuck,” Flint groaned. “Stand up.”

He didn’t get a chance to get up himself before Flint pulled him up and turned him towards the wall. Flint pulled his pants down and knelt down. He let out a gasp of pleasure when Flint’s tongue dug into him. He clawed at the wall, his body shaking. Flint’s hand wrapped around him, pumping him roughly. 

“Fuck, Flint,” he moaned, holding the wall to stop himself from falling on himself. 

He pulled his tongue away and muttered the lubricating charm, immediately pushing his fingers inside of him. 

He groaned, pushing down onto his fingers, his thick fucking fingers that felt so good inside of him. “You want me to fuck that pretty little arse of your?” Flint asked.

“Please,” he mumbled.

“What was that, Wood?” he asked teasingly, his fingers wiggling inside of him and he knew Flint was purposely avoiding his prostate. 

“Please,” he groaned out. 

“Please what, Wood?”

He whimpered as Flint barely brushed against his prostate, causing him to back his hips forward. “Please fuck me,” he groaned.

He didn’t need to look over his shoulder to know that Flint smirked. His fingers left him and after muttering the charm again, his pushed inside of him. 

His teeth sunk into his bottom lip, pushing back against Flint thick cock. His legs shook under him, which prompted Flint to wrap one arm around his hips as he bucked his hips. 

“Flint, fuck,” he moaned as he hit his prostate over, and over, and over. He was ready to pass out from that sheer pleasure. 

With his free hand, Flint wrapped his hand around his cock, stroking him as he fucked him. Flint was panting in his ear, nibbling on the lobe gently. 

“Fucking hell, Wood,” he grunted, his teeth sinking into his shoulder. Oliver shrieked somewhere between pain and pleasure, he wasn’t sure but he was too high on ecstasy to care. 

Flint’s hands moved to his hips, keeping him steady as he bucked his hips quickly, grunting his name over and over. “Wood, Wood, Wood.”

“Fuck, Flint!” he moaned as he reached his climax, hitting the wall. He didn’t get a chance to catch his breath because Flint continued to buck his hips, fucking him so damn hard until he reached his own. 

They took a chance to catch their breath before doing the quick cleaning spell. Silence took over when they had stopped panting. He looked at Flint, who had a stony expression on his face. Like they hadn’t just had sex. He gave him a casual nod as if he was greeting him in the corridor.

They never kissed, that was a line they didn’t cross. That was its own playing field. They could suck each other off or stick their tongue up the other’s arsehole but lips went nowhere near each other. 

“See you in class,” Flint said and left the change room. 

…

They’d won the game against Ravenclaw which meant if Slytherin won against Hufflepuff – which they probably would – they’d be playing against them. Oliver was ready to lead Gryffindor to win after their losing streak. 

Hogsmeade weekends were somewhere between a blessing and a curse. Sure it was nice going down to the village but it took away valuable practice time. 

Either way, he still went down. He did like the village, it reminded him of the one he grew up in, the Scottish accents provided familiarity. 

Percy didn’t want to come down today so he was alone. He was a bit more on an introvert so he didn’t really mind. As he walked through the high street he saw Flint walk into Honeydukes with Higgs and Pucey. He hadn’t really seen Flint in anything other than class after they met up a few days ago. 

With a small smile he headed into Honeydukes. Flint hadn’t seen him walk in yet so he walked over to the chocolate section, his eyes drifting to Flint. He was waving a blood flavoured lollipop in Pucey’s face who rolled his eyes as Higgs laughed. His eyes went back to the chocolate frogs, picking up a box. Maybe he could get some chocolate wands too. 

As he was distracted, he felt someone ram their shoulder into his. He glanced over to see Flint scowling at him. 

“Watch it, Wood,” Flint grumbled and walked passed him. Oliver scowled back to stop himself from smiling, that was their code to meet up later that night in the Quidditch change room. They couldn’t exactly go up and ask the other so keeping it at hostile gestures avoided raised suspicions. They were expected to not like each other anyway, he could get along with Diggory or Davies, but as the Gryffindor captain, his biggest rival by default was the Slytherin team captain. Even if when he touched him he went weak at the knees. 

That’s a reason this almost felt wrong but in an exhilarating way. Hooking up with his rival was something that would cause a scandal in the school; both of them being blokes would amp it up even more. Inter-house relationships happened all the time but no one batted an eye if it was a straight couple. In his fourth year a Slytherin boy and a Gryffindor girl were caught by Peeves, meaning the whole school found out within a few minutes. That in itself caused quite a rouse. He didn’t want to think what would happen they were found out, that would shock the entire school. He couldn’t even think of a time Quidditch captains actually dated.

Not that he and Flint were dating. They just had an arrangement that wasn’t something rivals really should ever have. Something rivals shouldn’t ever do. Yet here he was, bubbling on the inside at the thought of later that night. 

Merlin, he hoped this wouldn’t lead to bullshit they couldn’t fix.

…

He wasn’t sure what to make of Flint when he first met him, he seemed like a massive grouch not interested in anyone. 

So the fact that Flint’s seemed to really love going on his knees to suck him off still was a little surprising. 

Oliver tugged on Flint’s hair as his cock hit the back of his throat. Merlin, why was it so hot to watch him do that? He had to clasp onto Flint’s shoulders to stop himself from buckling under his knees. 

“Fuck, Flint!” he groaned, his teeth sinking into his lip. Flint held him steady by keeping one hand clasped on his arse while the other held the base of his cock, giving him full control. He wanted so badly to thrust into his mouth, feel him gag around him, but he allowed Flint his control because he couldn’t deny how sexy that was. 

When Flint took him out of his mouth he let out a small whine of annoyance. He expected Flint was going to spring up, pin him to the wall and take it as his opportunity to fuck him senseless. But instead, he felt his mouth on his balls.

Okay, that was new. 

This time, his knees did buckle under him and he fell to the ground. Flint’s lips were still on his balls, and he continued to suck, his tongue massaging him. His entire body shook and his hands found Flint’s hair again. He gently ran his fingers through his hair and threw his head back when Flint’s hand clasped around his cock. 

That combination was enough to push him over the edge. He moaned and he shot all over Flint’s hand. He continued to suck his balls until he’d finished riding his climax. 

“Well damn,” he panted. “That was different.”

Flint smirked at him. “Clearly liked that,” he remarked, and actually licked the cum off of his fingers. He almost cursed again at the sight of that. 

“You made me come before we could do anything else, though.”

“I just wanted to get you off,” he replied. 

He glanced at his crotch and saw he was rock hard. “Sure you don’t want to do anything about that?”

He smirked. “Hm, maybe. I’m kinda about trying something different tonight.”

He pulled him flat on the floor and straddled his thigh. He lips latched onto his neck and began to suck his neck. Merlin, he was going to end up with a hickey. But he was so distracted by Flint humping his thigh that he didn’t care. 

They hadn’t had sex in the missionary. And yeah, while this probably wouldn’t technically count as missionary, they hadn’t laid down facing each other while doing anything like this. Maybe when Flint would grind their hips together when he’d pin his to the wall but not when they were laid down on the floor like this. 

His thigh being humped shouldn’t feel this good but it did and he felt a little dirty because of it. But Flint didn’t miss his pure enjoyment and when his lips moved away from his neck he smirked at him. 

“You’re so fucking sexy, y’know?” And before Oliver could shoot anything back, his lips latched around his nipple, and his nails sunk into Flint’s back, or clothed back.

It was unfair Flint was fully clothed while he was completely naked. 

He continued to hump his thigh and he could feel himself get hard again. 

“Fuck,” he muttered as Flint continued to hump his thigh. “Fuck yes,” he panted. 

Flint’s sped up, clearly close as his teeth sunk into his lip. Fuck, he was so sexy. So, so sexy.

He felt wetness against his thigh, and Flint panted above him. They were both panting on the floor, both riding their adrenaline. 

“That’s was different,” Oliver said, sitting up, his face completely flushed. Sweat was dripping down Flint’s face. Merlin, how was sweating so hot?

“You definitely liked it,” Marcus smirked standing up. He muttered the cleaning spell on his pants and stretched his arms above his head, his shirt riding up to show his defined hipbone. He licked his lip at the sight but shook off the feeling. His boner was going down as his ecstasy cooled down. 

“Hm, it was definitely different, but a good kind of different.”

With one last smirk, Flint picked up his wand and left the change room. 

…

“Is… is that a hickey?” 

Oliver could hear the smirk in George’s voice. 

“That’s definitely a hickey,” Fred added.

“Unless a bludger left a lip shaped mark on his neck.”

“Do you mind?” Oliver grunted batting them away. 

Instead, they sat on either side of him, pushing Percy and Katie out of the way, ignoring their protests.

“Who was it?” Fred asked.

“None of your business,” he grumbled, paying attention to his breakfast.

“Was it Katie?” Fred asked.

“Ew, no,” Katie said scrunching her nose.

“Okay, Alicia?” George asked.

“No,” Oliver groaned.

“Angelina?” Fred asked. “Mate, you know I like her.”

“No,” Oliver groaned.

“Is she in Gryffindor?”

“It’s none of your bloody business is what it is,” he grunted. 

Fred turned his head to Percy. “You have any idea?”

“I don’t really care honestly,” Percy shrugged. “I have more important things to do than care who Oliver snogs.” 

Yeah, that was why Percy was his best friend, other than convenience at least. 

“Honestly, why do you care?” Oliver asked.

“Because you literally care about nothing but Quidditch,” George said. 

“Yeah didn’t think you’d waste precious practice time to go snog some girl.”

He held back his snort. Mostly because he was snogging a bloke – he should really get around to telling people he’s gay – but also because part of the reason he and Flint met up so late was because it was too dark to practice. 

“But really, who is it?”

“Y’know what, I’m just gonna not tell you,” Oliver shrugged. “It’ll keep up the suspense.”

Annoyance flashed across their faces, only to be quickly replaced with determination. “Okay, never mind, we’ll figure it out ourselves.”

Oliver rolled his eyes. “Feel free.”

…

“How the fuck did you sneak firewhiskey in?” Oliver asked with a smile, sitting on the bench next to Flint.

He shrugged. “I’m sneaky, I guess.” He held out the bottle and Oliver took it, taking a sip.

“Not complaining,” Oliver smiled. 

“So, that’s hickey on your neck,” Flint smirked, eyeing the bruise. 

Oliver scowled at him, taking another sip. “Yeah, thanks for that.”

Flint reached over and flicked the bruise. “Bet you got plenty of questions.”

Oliver smirked at him. “Hm, yeah. People were wondering who the lucky girl was.”

Flint smirked back as he rubbed the bruised spot. “If only they knew.” He snatched back the firewhiskey, taking a sip. 

“Hm, Fred and George were trying so hard to figure it out.”

Flint leaned forward and bit the bruised spot, softly chuckling against his neck. “Gonna be a struggle.”

His heart thumped in his chest as Flint ran his tongue on his neck. He swallowed and tried to calm himself down. People consistently pointed out the mark that day, causing him to sputter out it was none of their business. 

So he’d been waiting all day to get right back at him. 

He put his hands on his shoulders and straddled his hips, lips immediately attaching to his neck. He felt Flint’s body tense, hands gripping his hips as he bit and sucked and licked his neck. 

“Is this what you call revenge for the hickey?” Flint asked, letting out a breathy moan as he held Oliver steady in his lap. “Because I really don’t mind it.” Oliver held back a chuckle, he could feel Flint getting hard under him, so he didn’t need to be told twice.

Flint’s breath hitched in his throat when Oliver bit his neck, growling in pleasure. “It feels nice now but the sweet revenge’ll come tomorrow.”

He snatched back the firewhiskey, taking a long scull, still straddling Flint’s hips. They were both far too tipsy to do anything so he just clumsily sucked on Flint’s skin between taking sips. 

“Don’t hog it,” Flint laughed, reaching out for the bottle. Oliver held it away, bursting into laughter. “Fuck, you’re drunk.”

He popped his lips. “Maybe.”

He smirked at him and finally got the bottle back. Oliver burst into drunken laughter as Flint sculled the rest of the bottle, not leaving a drop left. He let out a burp and covered his mouth. “Maybe shouldn’t’ve done that.”

Oliver laughed again. “Think you’re drunk too now.” 

Flint smiled. “Think so too.” He let out a long yawn. “Want to sleep.”

Oliver smiled. “Me too. Should we go back to our dorms?”

Flint shook his head. “Too drunk.” His forehead fell against his chest. 

Oliver smiled. “Guess we can sleep here.”

They laid down on the bench, which was pretty difficult to make comfortable. It was wide enough for them to lay side by side, Oliver burying his face into Flint’s chest as Flint held him by his hips.

They fell asleep like that. Maybe something they wouldn’t do if they were sober but they weren’t so it was easy to justify. 

Oliver was the first to wake up that morning, his eyes drifting open to see Flint was still asleep. He was still being held by him but his grip had loosened, but he still felt like a dead weight on him that if he moved he’d probably wake him. Oliver had to admit laying like this was nice. He’d never admit to it though; their arrangement was strictly no feelings. 

But he wasn’t totally against waking up like this. 

He saw Flint stir, his face screwing together as he let out a small yawn. His eyes drifted open and his grey eyes stared at him, confusion in them. As if he forgot they fell asleep together. His confusion was soon replaced with a smile, his grip on Oliver tightened.

And then he did something stupid.

He pressed his lips against Flint’s. 

He flinched away quickly, before Flint had a chance to push him away himself, getting out of Flint’s grip, falling onto the floor. Flint stared at him, clearly as shocked as he was over what he had done. 

No feelings. No kissing. Those were two very simple rules. 

“Sorry.”

Flint stared at him and awkwardly cleared his throat. “No, it’s fine. Just… just an accident obviously.”

Oliver nodded and swallowed. “Completely an accident.”

Flint stood up and scratched the back of his neck. “We should get back, it’s almost breakfast.”

Oliver nodded and Flint hastily left the change room, not giving him another glance. 

…

“Where were you?” Percy asked when he sat down next to him.

“What you mean?” Oliver asked, reaching for some eggs and bacon to slap onto his plate. 

“You weren’t in your bed at all last night.”

Oliver shrugged. “Must’ve missed me.”

Percy stared at him for a moment, clearly not believing him. “I was up late studying, I heard you sneak out.”

Oliver looked back at him as he chewed his food. His swallowed it down thickly. “Uh,” he scratched the back of his neck. “Okay, fine I snuck out.”

Percy cocked his head to the side, clearly waiting for him to elaborate. 

Did he want to tell him? Percy was his best friend after all. 

Maybe he should. 

At least vaguely. 

“Later, okay.”

He looked back at his food but he could feel Percy staring at him. He did eventually begrudgingly turn back to his food, clearly at the conclusion he won’t know what Oliver’s whereabouts were until later. 

He looked at the Slytherin table and tried not to laugh when one of the Quidditch team members smirking and pointing at the hickey on Flint’s neck. He tried not to laugh at the sight as Flint batted him away, glaring down at his food as his team laughed. 

Revenge never felt so sweet. 

…

“I think Flint got hit in the neck with a bludger,” Fred said when they walked off the pitch after practice.

“What makes you say that?” Oliver asked, putting his broom away. 

“He has a bruise on his neck.”

Alicia laughed. “Sure it’s not a hickey?” she asked, taking her hair out of its ponytail. 

“Name one girl, even a Slytherin, who’d want to put their mouth anywhere near Flint.”

Oliver snorted, trying not to burst into laughter. Because the situation was hilarious. Because Fred essentially unknowingly said he has bad taste. Because he was the one who gave the hickey and enjoyed it. Because Flint gave him his own hickey. Because Flint would rather give up Quidditch than have a girl give him a hickey. 

“Good point,” Alicia shrugged. “But I’m pretty sure it was a hickey.”

“Does he even have a girlfriend?” Katie asked. 

“Fuck if I know,” Fred replied with a shrug.

It took everything in Oliver to resist asking if it could be a boyfriend. 

He turned to his team and nodded at them. “Save the gossip for later, I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

“Not curious, Wood?” George asked, cocking his head to the side. Merlin, Oliver really hoped they weren’t putting pieces together. 

“Flint’s the least of my worries.”

Big fucking lie. He was still thinking about that kiss. 

Why did he do that? He didn’t like Flint that way. Not even as a friend.

At least, he didn’t think he did. 

When he got back to his room, Percy was on his bed reading one of his textbooks but he set it aside when he saw him.

“Okay, so where were you last night?” Percy asked. He sounded annoyed. Like he was inconvenienced by Oliver not telling him.

He sighed and went to his bed, falling onto his back. “Perce, I’m gay.”

He’d never said it out loud. He’d said it to himself in his head and Flint could make the conclusion on his own. 

Percy was silent for a moment, before responding. “So you were with a guy?”

“Bingo.”

He glanced at Percy who simply shrugged. “Okay, whatever. I assumed you were with a girl anyway but when you didn’t just say it at breakfast I thought it was something serious. Or you practicing keeping at night.”

Oliver laughed. “Well, thanks for being cool with it.”

“Whatever, can I get back to my homework now?”

“Sure,” he said then smiled. “Seriously though Perce, thanks.”

…

It had been weeks since they kissed. I week since they had spoken. A week since Flint had even looked at him. 

And it was so stupid a kiss was what did that. After every other thing they had done Flint wasn’t speaking to him because they kissed. 

The end of the year was creeping on them, along with the Quidditch house cup final against Slytherin. There were a few days actually and he was getting the team to practice as much as possible.

As he blocked a shot made by Angelina he saw exactly who he didn’t want to see settle themselves in the bleaches. 

Flint with Warrington and Montague. 

Through gritted teeth he barked at them to continue without them – “what? Score through unguarded hoops won’t do anything!” Alicia called – and flew to the ground. 

“What do you want Flint?” he growled at him walking to where the three Slytherins sat. 

Flint simply smirked at him. “What? Just enjoying some Quidditch.”

“Sure you don’t need to watch us practice,” he shot back, narrowing his eyes at him.

“Well, I can do what I want.” He had that stupid smirk on his lips, and Oliver remembered just how much he hated this wanker, with his attitude, and his conniving ways, and his pretty grey eyes, and his beautiful smile…

Uh, aside from that he was a wanker who’d been ignoring him. 

“Nah, pretty comfortable here,” Flint shrugged as Warrington and Montague snickered beside him. 

“Shame you’re such a bad captain that you need to watch us practice to make sure your plays are good.” Low kick but he didn’t care, he was angry at him.

It was enough for Flint to narrow his eyes at him. “Oh suck by dick.”

He scowled at him. Fuck, why did he ever do anything with him? How did they even start? 

“Rather gorge my eyes out.”

Flint scowled back at him but there was still amusement in his eyes. Because yeah, to be fair he’d sucked his dick plenty of times and enjoyed it. But that was beside the point, no one was supposed to know. It was supposed to be something they just did without anyone knowing, for who knew how long. 

Maybe they should’ve never started in the first place.

“I’m bored anyway. You lot aren’t that interesting. I just wanted confirmation that we’d kick your arses.”

When they stood to leave, he waited for Flint to bump his shoulder, any sort of indication he wanted to see him. 

But he didn’t, he just walked off with his fellow chasers on either side of him. And he was far more hurt by it than he felt he should be.

…

The game came and went. When he and Flint did the customary captain’s handshake, Flint squeezed his hand tighter than usual and scowled at him, prompting him to do it right back, squeezing his hand just as tight, scowling back at him. 

What was his problem? How was he so angry over a kiss? Sure, Oliver was the one who said they shouldn’t kiss but why was he so angry about it? Why was he ignoring him because of it? 

But he pushed that from his mind and focussed on the game. He was ready to finally beat Slytherin especially after how bad they lost in his fourth year. 

He blocked as many shots as he could, the girls scored and dodged bludgers, the twins batted them away and towards Slytherins, and Harry looked out of the snitch. 

Flint was definitely focussed during the game, clearly determined to win. He made borderline fouls – or just straight up fouls – as he flew to the goals. When he would try to make a goal, he barely stayed long enough to see if he scored. 

But he ignored that.

And in the end, he was able to mostly forget about it. 

Harry caught the snitch.

They had won. 

…

The twins carried Harry on their shoulders into the change rooms, chanting his name and singing him praises as the girls went into the girl’s side. Before he entered he glanced over his shoulder, seeing if Flint was anywhere. He saw the Slytherins trailing into their change room. Flint was nowhere in sight. 

He huffed and walked into the change room and went straight for the showers. 

He dragged it out, washing his hair twice, slowly washing his body, and just letting the water pour on him. He wasn’t sure why he felt like this, he’d won the Quidditch house cup as captain. This would make it easier to get on a pro team. 

But he couldn’t get Flint off his mind. He could forget about everything they’d done in that very change room.

Falling asleep together and kissing Flint included. 

When he left the shower, he found that the change room was empty. The boys clearly left for the celebration in the common room that had no doubt started. So he got dressed, giving up on Flint coming to see him.

When he was dressed, he stared at himself in the mirror, trying to make his air dried hair look a little neat. As he ran his fingers through it, trying to get out any knots he heard footsteps. And Flint came into view.

He didn’t turn to look at him, he just looked at him through the mirror, waiting for him to saying something, anything.

“Congrats, on winning, Wood,” Flint said. 

Oliver stayed silent, still not turning to look at him. 

“I’m sorry, for not speaking to you.”

“You’re sorry?” Oliver scoffed, finally turning to look at him. “I stupidly kiss you for less than a second and you don’t speak to me, and you’re sorry?” 

Flint bit his lip. “Look, Wood, I… I don’t know.”

Oliver shook his head. “You clearly know, what is it?”

Flint seemed to hesitate before he answered. “You were the one that said no kissing and no feelings.”

Oliver stared at him for a moment. Was Flint suggesting… was he saying… was he…

“I like you, a lot.”

Oliver shook his head. That was definitely a hard thing to swallow. “Then why haven’t you spoken to me.” 

Flint took a deep breath. He actually looked like he was close to tears. “Because for a split second I… I thought you felt the same way. But you pulled away before I could kiss you back. I thought maybe there’d be something after we fell asleep together.”

“So your solution was being a complete wanker to me? You should’ve said something!”

“Yet when you kissed me you wanted to forget about it,” Flint growled back. “I knew I shouldn’t’ve done anything with you, because maybe I’ve liked you for a while. Maybe I thought this would be the closest I’d get to… to having you. Even if I couldn’t kiss you when I really wanted to. Even though I knew any sort of feelings on your part would be impossible since you were so adamant on not having them.”

“What, like you’re some sort of amazing catch I’d be so lucky to have?” Oliver exasperated. Why couldn’t he have just told him? That would’ve made this whole situation a little less confusing. 

But when he thought about it, he was the one who said no feelings, no kissing. 

Because it was Flint, and he couldn’t fall for Flint. 

Flint shook his head at him. “I know I’m not a catch, Wood. I know that well enough. I still liked you a lot. I still… I don’t know,” he sighed. “I didn’t think I’d have a real chance with you, I don’t know why I bothered in the first place.”

Oliver stared at him and shook his head. “This wasn’t supposed to happen.”

“It had already happened, Wood.” 

“If only you told me in the however many times you shagged me.” Merlin, what would’ve happen if he had told him? 

What would’ve happened if he hadn’t pulled away from their kiss?

He scoffed. “Oh, did you really forget how adamant you were on not falling for each other?” he shook his head. “I’m not saying it would’ve been easy, fuck I’m far from ready to tell anyone I’m gay. I am saying I liked you, and if the only way I could get a little close to you was shagging you, even if I couldn’t kiss you, I took it. Because maybe I’m an idiot it bites off more than I can chew. Maybe I was convinced you’d fall for me. Maybe…” he shook his head. “I don’t think I even really know, I wanted something that wasn’t just shagging. But you didn’t even want me to kiss you, and I had to stop myself from kissing you senseless simply when I looked at you. I wanted something more.”

Oliver’s mouth felt dry as he shook his head. “I’m sorry.” He wasn’t sure what he was even apologising for. Pulling away from their kiss? Insisting they don’t kiss? Not realising how Flint felt? Ignoring how he might feel about him? 

“I don’t care, Wood,” Flint sighed. “School’s pretty much done anyway, I don’t care anymore. Go celebrate your win with the other Gryffindors.”

And with that, he left the change room, leaving Oliver alone and conflicted as ever. 

He made his way back to the common room, trying to get Flint off of his mind. When he got back to the common room he saw the girls sitting together and chose to sit with them.

“Aye! Our captain’s finally showed up!” Fred bellowed across the room with a grin. 

“Finally!” George added. “Bet those Slytherin arseholes!” 

Oliver smiled a, what he hoped was, a convincing smile. Because he was ecstatic they won, but Flint wouldn’t escape his mind. “Yeah well, our team is awesome,” he replied. “Didn’t stand a chance.”

“Their chasers weren’t above kicking us,” Alicia said, sitting on Katie’s lap. “Flint almost got my face.”

Katie rolled her eyes. “Remember that time he did kick me in the face and my nose started to bleed?” she rolled her eyes. “Fucking oaf.”

“Oh, I remember that,” George said, he, Fred, and Lee coming closer to the group. “But you didn’t let that stop you.”

“Yeah, and me and Angelina had to run her to the infirmary,” Alicia interjected, playing with Katie’s plait. 

Oliver smiled. “Yeah, that was so bad.”

He could focus on this for now and not on the bollocks with Flint. 

…

“I’m gonna miss this place,” Oliver mused as he walked to the train with the girls, the twins, Lee, and Percy. 

“The place will miss you too,” Fred said, patting his shoulder.

“Will it miss me too?” Percy asked, glancing at his brothers.

“No,” George said and laughed when he got a glare back. 

He looked back at the castle and that’s when it dawned on him he’d never see Flint again. But he told himself he didn’t care about that. Even if Flint felt… that way about him. Even if he still wasn’t completely sure how he himself felt about Flint. 

He was tired honestly. 

Then, something came over him. He wasn’t sure what exactly but he got the idea in his head and realised there was no better time.

“Hey guys?” he spoke up.

“Yeah, cap’?” Fred asked.

“So I’m gay.”

The group didn’t seem fazed, the twins and Lee shrugged, the girls smiled, and Percy looked relieved.

“Hm, suspected for a while,” Alicia said.

“Gee, thanks,” Oliver said, rolling his eyes. 

“Well, this does mean Lee owes us three galleons,” George said holding out his hand. Lee sighed and begrudgingly reached into his pocket and hand them the gold. 

Oliver laughed. “Don’t even want to know.”

“So does this mean the hickey was from a bloke?” Fred asked, fiddling with the gold in his hand. 

“Back onto the hickey again?” 

“Who was it?” 

Oliver’s smile dropped. “None of your business,” he grumbled. 

Katie raised her brow at him. “There’s something in your tone.”

“Nothing’s in my tone, besides no one knows he’s gay so it’s not my place to tell you, is it?”

“Can we guess?” George asked, and didn’t even wait for an answer before he started listing off names. “Diggory? That Ravenclaw you sat with in potions?”

“Bissett? That Hufflepuff you always talk to?” Fred added,

“Parrish? Jenko? Gilmore?”

“Would you two stop!” he snapped at them. “None of them, don’t think I even knew half of them.”

“Are we close?” Fred asked. 

He rolled his eyes and charged ahead of them in his frustration. He didn’t need Flint on his mind again. He was never going to see him again. He was tired of the thought of him. 

Maybe he shouldn’t have pulled away from their kiss. If he had a way to go back to that moment, he would’ve kissed Flint in the early morning haze and they could have been… something. Something that wasn’t what they were now.

Why did Flint have to confuse the fuck out of him?

“Hey, slow down!” came Katie’s voice came along with the girls running to him. “Why you letting them get to you?”

He took a deep breath, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I’m not,” he said. 

“Ended bad then?” Alicia asked. “With whoever the bloke is.”

He huffed. “What was you first clue?” 

“Just ignore them, Oll,” Angelina said. “Not their business.”

He almost smiled at that, how the girls weren’t as interested in his personal life as the twins.

“Still curious who it was though.”

And of course they ruined it.

Alicia laughed. “Kate, I agree, just drop it.”

“What?” Katie asked. “It’s not like it’s a Slytherin like, what? Higgs? Or Flint?” she laughed, making it clear she was joking and Alicia and Angelina laughed too.

Oliver smiled and let out a fake laugh. “Please Bell, give me some credit.”

Katie laughed. “Yeah, you have some taste, I’m sure.”

Even though his mouth felt dry, he laughed with the three of them. 

…

The next few years were a blur, he got onto Puddlemere’s reserves but when the Second War began the entire next two seasons were cancelled for muggle-borns who wanted to hide, and for anyone else who wanted to get away. Especially when Death Eaters had control over the ministry.

Oliver, however, chose to fight. 

He went back to his alma mater and as painful as it was, he fought. He carried dead bodies. He suffered through the death he was surrounded by. He stayed strong when Harry was thought to be dead. He rejoiced in You-Know-Who’s defeat. He drank with Alicia, Katie, and Angelina in the aftermath. 

His mind was still on how thankful he was when in each glance outside, he didn’t see Flint with the death eaters. That he saw Slytherins he barely remembered but no Flint. 

It was a little nice knowing he wasn’t stuck on a Death Eater. 

Things returned to as normal as it could. He returned to playing Quidditch, being moved up to starting keeper for the next season finally. Harry got married and he was invited. Even with the reporters who had found their way in, it was a nice occasion. It was also when Alicia and Katie told everyone they were getting married, which fazed people a little since no one knew they were together (aside from Angelina who proudly proclaimed herself as their constant third wheel). It made him curious how people would react if they found out he and Flint were… if he and Flint had been together. 

He hadn’t really dated a lot. He’d met some blokes he liked but none of them stuck like Flint. None of them stuck in his mind and made him think of them constantly. 

He wasn’t in love with any of them.

“You won’t believe who I just got on the starting team!” his Coach bellowed running into the change room.

“Must be pretty good,” Riley remarked, tying her hair up. 

Coach nodded. “Pretty good, got him from Montrose.”

That got Oliver’s attention. It couldn’t be? Could it?

“So, who is it?” Chris asked, pulling on his arm guards. 

Coach turned to look behind his shoulder and in walked the person Oliver wasn’t sure he was thankful to see or dreading to see. 

Flint looked different but the same. His jaw was sharper and he’d gone from burly to muscular. His teeth were now straight, probably from a spell that was recommended to cast when the person had stopped growing. 

He wasn’t nineteen anymore, that’s the one thing clear. 

“Marcus Flint, huh?” Riley remarked. “I saw you against the Tornadoes, pretty decent.”

“He’s not on the team for being decent, Riley,” Coach said. “One of the best chasers I’ve seen.”

“I had good practice in school,” Flint shrugged and his eyes flickered to Oliver for a moment. “One team had a pretty good keeper.”

Oliver held back his smile. That was the closest to a compliment he’d get from Flint. 

“Well, c’mon, get to practice,” Coach barked at them and they ran outside to the pitch. 

Flint’s playing had changed. He’d matured passed his childish fouls to being a really good flyer (at least better than he was in school) and flew swiflty through the air. But at his core, he played the same and Oliver blocked most of his shots. 

They still had that root competitive nature. Flint seemed determined to score one goal on him. And he did have a self-satisfied smirk one his face when he scored on him. 

When he was ready to run to the showers and leave as fast as he possible could, Flint flew over to him. 

“Can we talk?”

Oliver swallowed, chewing his lip. It probably wouldn’t be a good idea but he still nodded. 

They found a spot away from everyone, as their teammates were distracted with their own conversations. 

“Hi,” Flint said, biting his lip.

“Hi,” Oliver replied weakly. 

Flint scratched the back of his neck and cleared his throat. “You look-“

“Flint,” Oliver cut in. “You don’t need to talk to me like… I don’t know, we ran into each other accidently. What are you doing here?”

Flint swallowed. “I got an offer, it was better than Montrose, I took it.”

Oliver shook his head. “So it just happened to be my team?”

“Yes, I guess,” he sighed. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

Oliver shook his head. “Well, I haven’t seen you in years and you just show up, sorry for being fazed. After everything back at school.”

Flint took a deep breath. “We were just kids,” he said. “We were confused. We didn’t know better. But… I was still hurt, y’know.”

“Over never kissing?”

“Over really liking you and you acting like it’s the worst thing I could’ve done.” 

Oliver frowned. “Are you still upset about that?” 

He shrugged. “I guess it had to do with you being the first bloke I really liked and you just… didn’t care. You were a bit of an arsehole.”

Oliver nodded. “I was a kid too, remember.” he sighed. “I don’t know. I guess I didn’t know how to handle feelings for you. I was too young to know how to deal with it.”

“Meaning?” Flint prompted. 

“Meaning I now know why you’ve been on my mind since you left me after the house cup.”

Flint smiled. “And that is?”

He blushed, looking away. “You know what I mean.”

“Nah, I want to hear it.”

He scowled, looking back at him. “Why don’t you say something about it if you seem so confident you’ve matured.”

Flint shrugged. “Fine, those childish feelings have grown into love. I’ve tried moving on but I can’t. And it sucked because even though you were pretty much in denial at that point, I still had feeling. But I do love you, so fucking much.”

He stared at him but he smiled. He needed to be sure Oliver felt the same way. “Well, honestly I’ve tried moving on but no one measures up to you,” he smiled. “I love you too, despite everything.”

And Flint smiled too. 

Maybe it was time to call him Marcus. 

“One last question,” Marcus said. “If I kiss you will you pull away?”

And Oliver couldn’t help but smile. He stepped closer to him, wrapped his arms around his neck and pulled him down to kiss him. 

And he began to wonder why he waited so long to do this.


End file.
